Silent Valor
by Howard Hugheson
Summary: The meteorite which will one day be forged into the Sword of Martin hits ground near Salamandastron. The site is a classified government program, however, and it's up to Deputy Director Jack Ryan to keep Silent Valor.


WARNING: Any and all cursing has been edited out of this story so that it remains suitable for a general audience.

_Yorkshire, England_

The night was a quiet one at the J. A. Jones Hoober Observatory in South Yorkshire, England. Edward Cline was a pale man, in his late 60's, wearing a wool suit, thick glasses, and had a habit of smoking a pipe in the observatory, something frowned upon by other members of the Mexborough and Swinton Astronomical Society which owned the observatory. No matter, he thought to himself as he waves off the flame of his match and placed it on the table before him for later disposal. The man enjoyed his tobacco and on a night like this, when he had the observatory to himself, he didn't really care what the others thought.

Cline allowed the smoke to rise slowly above him, not thinking about how the odor lingered. Cline still didn't care. The other members will probably think it was just the familiar odor on his clothes being left over from his nightly rounds, observing the night sky. Cline sighed out the smoke as he leaned forward, examining the image on the computer monitor before him. The man furrowed his graying brows at what he noticed. "Meteor," he said with a smirk before typing out some program on the computer. It pulled up a map of England, and it started showing off coordinates. The program took a moment to upload the information Cline impatiently waited for, but when the information did show up, the pale man became paler, his mouth open, and the pipe dropping from his mouth and to the floor without much consideration, small specks of tobacco dropping on the floor next to him.

_Salamandastron_

The young badger stared at the night sky, his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the blazing flame falling from the sky, something he had never seen. "What sort of magic is this?" he whispered. The creature was large, even for a badger, but his clothing was simple – just a green tunic along with a large wooden mace.

"Lord Stonepaw!" cried out a hare who stood near him, behind him. "What in jolly blazes is it?"

The badger shook his head slowly, and was about to give an answer that wouldn't explain what it was he was seeing, but then the ball of fire hit the ground, and following the explosion it produced upon impact bellowed out a loud booming sound. "Viddin?" he said slowly, turning to face the hare who asked him about this mystery. "Get a patrol together. We shall see what this is, which has fallen from the sky."

Viddin nodded, running back to the fire mountain.

_Central Intelligence Agency Headquarters, Langley, VA_

"You're sure about this?" asked Marcus Cabot, the current Director of the Central Intelligence Agency as he sat behind his desk in his office deep in the CIA headquarters in Langley, VA. "Understood." The phone was slowly placed back on the receiver. "That was the Director of MI5," he said slowly to Jack Ryan who sat across the desk from him.

Deputy Director Jack Ryan wore a brown suit, his tie loose as it was approaching the end of his and Director Cabot's work day. "MI5?" Ryan asked with a frown. "England's intellegence?"

"Yup," Cabot said, leaning back in his leather chair. "It would seem an observatory there monitored a meteorite hitting ground."

Ryan looked confused. "Meteorite?" he asked with a smile, almost amused. "Why's this an issue sir?"

"It's an issue because of where it landed," Cabot said, rubbing an eye tiredly. "Estimations put it touching down close to Site 4W."

"4W," Ryan repeated, rubbing his mouth in shock. The realization of what had happened slowly hit him more so than it did Cabot. "That's... that's the main research center in England."

"And an deactive volcano," said Cabot. "Darn rare but it just so happened this rock hit it. If word gets out about this, or if thrill seekers want to stick their heads where they don't belong, 4W could be breached. This could place security at risk, on a global scale."

"Does the President know?" Ryan asked, more panicked about the situation than Cabot.

"If we know," said Cabot, "he does. Jack, I hate to ask this of you."

Ryan simply nodded, knowing what the request would be. Rising from his chair, Ryan accepted the assignment he knew would be given to him.

_Salamandastron_

The Badger Lord of Salamandastron and hares all stood around the rock which had seemed to no longer be on fire, but still scorched the earth surrounding it. Stonepaw walked up to the rock, a paw slowly reaching out, hesitating for a moment, then touching it. "It is from the stars themselves," he whispered, staring up at the sky.

Some of the hares joined him in looking up, others only looked down at the rock. "Sire," one of the hares finally said, "what... does it bolly all mean, wot?"

Stonepaw shook his head. "I'm not sure but, I believe it to be a gift. A sign. We must take it back to Salamandastron."

The hares looked at each other, some looking as if they were about to ask a question but thought better of it. Finally the one who spoke up gave a nod. "Yes Lord Stonepaw," he said, and quickly they began forming a makeshift wagon out of nearby wood to carry the rock back to their home.

_Liverpool, England_

Ryan found himself making his way through the John Lennon International airport, wearing a brown overcoat due to the weather and carrying close to him a messenger bag. Ryan had no luggage, as he wasn't expecting to stay here any longer than he needed to. Boarding a helicopter not far from the large jets, Ryan buckled himself in to a seat that was not that unfamiliar to him. Sitting next to him was an old acquaintance, John Clark.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Deputy Director himself," Clark grinned behind a pair of sunglasses. "You're in a suit and overcoat Mr. Ryan. Somewhat overdressed for the mission."

Ryan couldn't help but break a smile himself. "Hey Clark," he greeted the CIA operative who worn a black outdoors shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a belt with no holster on it. "We're taking a walk in the woods I take it?"

Clark continued to smile as the helicopter made a steady approach across the city, away from it. "You could say that," he said as he glanced out the window. "4W hasn't been compromised by humanity as of yet, but I have Chavez on the ground collecting intel and making sure our furry friends aren't too raddled."

Ryan look surprised at that. "Wildlife?" he asked.

Clark smirked. "Mr. Ryan, it has not been made exactly clear to us what 4W really is."

Ryan continued his surprised, and perhaps now puzzled look. "A research field for alternate intelligence operations," he said. "A cooperation between the CIA and the MI4 to..."

"Nope," Clark said with a grin. "Well, alright, some of that bullsh- may be true, but that's just a very vague description of what really goes on there. Has anyone ever talked about what sort of operations really happen there? What kind of experiment it is?"

Ryan frowned, still staring at Clark. Ryan had never heard of this field as being an 'experiment' of any sort. All he know of it was that it was a high classified area reserved for intelligence operations by both the United States of America and Great Britain. Never had he cared to know more than that, as he wasn't in the business of training new recruits in any sort of international field, nor was he interested in international cooperation. Ryan was assigned to Langley, and his main concern was the United States of America.

Clark nodded, understanding Ryan's ignorance to the subject. "Seems like some guys from our health department, most notably the National Institute of Mental Health, have been working on 'advanced evolution' in rats. Lab rats. The goal was to make the rats have human intelligence and function in an attempt to further advance research in mental disabilities. Well, seems like some of their lab rats skidaddled, but the experiment was a success. They moved the operation over here, at the request of the MI4, to see how other species would react. Soon enough, they have a big area full of critters who can think and act just as good as you and me, and they started forming societies."

Ryan could only stare at Clark as the helicopter continued its' course. Hardly did Ryan notice the thickness of the woods growing under him.

Clark laughed at the response. "Sounds like something you'd hear out of a fairy tale, right? Well I sh- you not Ryan. Walking talking animals that have built buldings, towns, whatever, and are living productive lives. Not only that but it seems they skipped right into the midevil times, as far as their 'advancement' goes."

Ryan looked towards the pilot, only a glance, before looking back to Clark. "Is this a joke Clark?" Ryan asked.

"Do I seem like the type to joke?" Clark asked.

Ryan didn't answer that.

Clark handed Ryan a satellite photograph of what was clearly a volcano, near a shore. "Our boss probably told you this thing hit an active volcano," Clark said. "Well, he wasn't lying. The good news is that the media and public don't seem to be sh—ing their pants about a meteor landing somewhere in the woods, and the thing wasn't big enough to cause any damage."

Ryan looked over the picture. "There's some bad news?" he asked.

"Yeah," Clark said. "Turns out this volcano is inhabited by a bunch of rab... hares, I meant. Big rabbits. I told you, these animals are forming societies. Well, it looks like these hares have formed their own little city-state right here, on this volcano. A rock falling out of the sky may be supernatural to these things, and, with them being a military of sorts, the MI4 Is concerned about possible panic, and about them leaving 4W."

Ryan smiled as he looked over the picture still, thinking how absurd this all sounded to him. "Bunnies huh?" he asked.

Clark looked to the picture before looking forward. "Bad a- bunnies," he said with a nod. "Like an army of these things, carrying swords, or bows or whatever. Reports indicate they're lead by a badger."

Ryan shook his head and put the photo down, looking to Clark. "Clark, I'll be honest with you," he said. "If it wasn't you telling me this, I'd have you thrown out of the 'company' for wasting my time here. If it wasn't Chavez getting the intel, I'd have him put in the nuthouse for seeing things."

Clark grinned again and said, "Don't hold back on those reservations yet, Ryan. You might be checking in there after you see 4W for yourself."

_Western Shore, near Salamandastron_

The weasel and rat snuck out from the forestation and onto the beach, looking towards Salamandastron. The weasel was brown-furred and for clothing he had a brown tunic with brown pants. A dagger was sheathed in his belt. "What ye s'pose that was, Bloodfang?"

The rat spat on the beach. The rugged creature had a simple black shirt and brown pants for clothing, which looked old and well worn, holes in some areas. "'ow should I know?" he snarled, revealing clenched teeth in annoyance. "A star fell fromma sky, Hardtail. Alls I know. Now that there mountain, full of 'ares, got it."

The weasel looked annoyed with his comrad but said nothing as he peered out to Salamandastron. "Why ye' think they took it?" he asked.

Bloodfang kicked some sand with a footpaw. "Again mate, 'ow should I know? But they took it, so it must be powerful. Them 'ares are sneaky. They don't be collectin' rocks fer nothin'."

Hardtail narrowed his eyes. "Lets get th'others," he said. "Scout out that mountain."

The two then walked back to where they had came from.

_Near Salamandastron_

As the rat and weasel talked on the beach, Domingo "Ding" Chavez watched through the scope of his sniper rifle as the hares hauled the rock back to Salamandastron. Chavez was in full cammoflodge and practically invisable, as was his talent and occupation. Normally someone out here would be watching through binoculars but Chavez always did any type of reconnicense work with his rifle.

Quietly he watched as the hares took great effort in pulling their load up the side of what they called Salamandastron, what he called 4W. This certainly would be information that his superiors would want to know. At least Clark, he thought to himself, but he didn't dare radio in anything while being this close. Chavez was more thoughtful than to just radio in things when he was within seeing distance of the creatures, even if that seeing distance was through a high powered scope. Chavez, having seen all he cared to see, slowly made his way back into the depths of the forest.


End file.
